Atonement
by Royal-Ranger
Summary: Being a ninja in the Naruto world isn't the best idea. Sometimes, though, it is necessary. Especially in war, and when mistakes need to be atoned for. They look to each other as they run from the past. Hoping for the future. A tale of two siblings. OC
1. Prologue

**Hello you wonderful people! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor do I profit from this writing.**

**Summary: Being a ninja in the Naruto world isn't the best idea. Sometimes, though, it is necessary. Especially in war, and when mistakes need to be atoned for. **

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Imagine being trapped. No air. No light. No smell. Weightless. But it isn't that bad. If anything it is almost peaceful, like a quiet moment where your mind just blanks out. Now that you have that picture in your mindscape, you might understand a fourth of how I felt. It would have been a puzzle I previously would have tried to figure out, but now I just floated without a care.

It wasn't the end of the world, but my abode was crumbling before my very eyes. And with that crumbling came a flood of memory. The middle of winter in the North of New England. Vermont, lovely with rolling hills, and trees covered in a frosted snow. The roads covered in ice, plows, and salting trucks yet to come to this area. But I had somewhere waiting on me. Not anywhere important mind you, but being late horrified me. The ice didn't help the fact of my young license, I being inexperienced, and driving faster than intelligence should dictate I go. Unfortunately I didn't care. My fatal flaw. Arrogance. Knowing the consequences and thinking they wouldn't apply to me.

Of course thinking like that leads to dangerous times. I am not immune to my stupidity.

And stupid I was, driving high speeds on an uncleared highway, miles away from anyone who would be able to help if something happened.

I could feel the tires slide over the road, trying to regain control I took my foot off the gas, turning the wheel. Useless, that's all it was. I was helpless to even help myself now. As the car started to spin, I looked around while giving a wild grab for the emergency brake, latching on and pulling it up. That seemed to only make it worse. Before my mind could process anything my blue jeep had flipped over the guard rail, and landed bottom up against a tree. The windows had all smashed on impact, covering my frail body in red glittering sparkles. The roof compacted. I was still buckled, my head spinning I tried to see the release, but everything was fuzzy. My lungs felt like a moose was sitting on them, my arms pinned in by the steering wheel, pressing against my ribs. My vision got increasingly fuzzy, until... nothing.

And then... something. Another memory. Floating again. Watching my memory unfold peacefully. So different than before, I'm snuggled on the couch with my mom. Just the two of us and our dog, curled up to our right in her puffy bed. She was a golden retriever husky with one blue eye, and the other brown. Every now and then she would give a little snort in her dreams while my mom stroked my hair. She called me her blanket. I was twelve, and it was nice to just forget about the snow drifting outside, the homework that needed catching up on, and just sit peaceful with my anchor. Suddenly the reassuring picture shattered from a chilling wind. I couldn't stifle a sob as my mom slowly faded away, I missed her so much, I wasn't ready to let go of her. I wanted to live, just be able to hug her and apologize for scaring her. I struggled weakly, but my arms were still pinned, and now my feet were too, and it was all just so frustrating I wanted to cry. I let the tears flow down my cheeks and the sobs escape.

Then I realized that there was murmuring around my head, and something soft supporting my neck. Curious I stopped crying and tried to open my eyes. They stayed stuck, something prodded open my fist and my fingers immediately tightened around the object. A soft voice singing next to my ear, that wasn't my mom. What the... why would some random person be singing in my ear? I didn't recognize the voice, so I poured more effort into opening my eyes. Finally, a result, I knew my eyelids were open, but everything was blurry. Still blurry, like that dream, or was it a memory? Why was everything so fuzzy? This wasn't right! I wanted to see, what if the glass from the car had hit my eyes? What if I ended up blind forever? No, no nonono. That couldn't happen. All my books, my beloved collection of print. Useless if I couldn't see. Thrashing in what should have been a wild way I managed to change my view slightly. Blobs, blurs, colors. No definite shapes. I felt something on my head. Was the car still compacting? I thought someone had pulled me out, had I just been dreaming this whole time?

No, it wasn't the car. It was my mom stroking my hair. Soothingly, trying to calm me down. But why couldn't I see? Won't someone please tell me. Nothing, just that same murmuring in my ear.

My head was still being stroked. Curious, my mom's hand covered my whole head, her hands had always been small. What would be more realistic, her hands growing to the size of my head, or my head shrinking to the size of her hand? Neither seemed logical, or even remotely possible. The fact remained that her hand covered my head reassuringly. Unwilling, yet calm, my eyes drifted shut, and my mind-set to floating through space.

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I blinked. My vision was fuzzy. Stupid eyes. See the world already, darn it! The day before was as blurry as my eyes, why couldn't I move? Oh yeah, the accident. I wonder who had gotten me out of the car. Something soft rubbed against my cheek, I turned toward it, mouth opening to ask what happened. Before I could use my vocal cords something rubbery found its way into my mouth, followed by warm milk. What? Were they giving me a bottle? Why the heck would someone give me a bottle? I was practically an adult!

I hadn't needed a bottle since I was little...really little. Wait. Bottle? Humongous hands? Blurry shapes? No, not possible. I wasn't a baby again, was I? Someone patted my head, cooing in my ear, trying to get me to drink from the bottle. Either this was a very realistic dream, or I had died, and reincarnation was real. I had never fallen asleep in a dream before, and that had happened earlier, right? I think my latter realization could be right. Wait till I told my family, they totally wouldn't believe me. Oh, right, dead, baby form. No more family. The tears were falling again, but that was normal for babies, they cried all the time. Nobody would realize that I was mourning being ripped from my family. My mom. My dad. My brothers. My pets. They were all gone, if what I thought might have happened turned into reality.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad though. Maybe I could make up for mistakes. Maybe I could live for others instead of myself. I could protect my friends, and help those that needed it. I can give my best. Long term plan established, I will make the most of this new life, look out for those around me, and protect the dear ones in my life. But what about a short-term goal? Making it realistic will only help me meet the goal. How about finding out where I am? The first step to do that is stop crying, and clear my eyes. Mourning won't help me now, I need to move on, and keep going.

It's hard to stop crying. The tears won't leave me quickly, and by now I've started hiccuping. There are gentle fingers stroking my head again, and instead of turning to thoughts of my mom, I focus on calming down. I still couldn't see though, didn't babies have some sight? I don't really know, never having experienced a birth, but I thought I'd be able to see outlines. Well, if seeing wasn't an option, hearing could be. Focusing on the voices around me, I became aware of raised voices arguing. My hope for learning my location went to lurk in a corner. I guess my goal wasn't as realistic for a baby as first believed. The voices were speaking gibberish. If people around didn't speak English, then listening in wouldn't be an option.

Just as my brain began to tune out, I heard one word. A word that I hadn't heard since high school. A word that linked me to ninjas. The word kunai. The only time I remember seeing, hearing and watching that word, was when I watched Naruto. Don't tell me. My wildest dreams have come true. Or, I've officially gone crazy. Not much of a long shot, it'd be more realistic than my current situation.

After all, getting stuck in the Naruto world as a baby isn't the brightest idea.

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**Cheers,**

**Royal-Ranger**


	2. New Family

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, if I did it would be over by now ;)**

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My new mother, died in my birth. A birth I can only assume was not originally meant, considering my new family. My father's name is Sakumo Hatake, who thought it was okay to bring kunai into a maternity ward when you just get back from a mission. My brother is Kakashi Hatake, a two-year old dealing with the death of his mother by himself.

I am Hatake, Aoi, and I am blind. The blurs have not receded, even months after my birth. My brother doesn't like me. And my father seems to see his wife everywhere, hoping that it is all a joke.

My new identity urges me to turn my back, run and never come return.

But I can't, even if I have been born into a family cursed with death and darkness. In a way, this dysfunctional family is, or will, be perfect for the ideals I wish to uphold. I want to protect my precious people.

Sakumo will give up his mission to save his comrades.

Kakashi. Well, after Obito gives him a waking up then he will strive to as well.

And I will find a way to protect my new family. No matter what.

My sight is a hindrance to that goal, but there will be ways to 'see'. Already, I know of a way that may work, once my chakra develops. We discovered it by accident. I was a month old, and I touched Kakashi while he practised chakra control. He had it crackling and rolling along his skin. The feeling of that energy near me, prompted me to reach out for his arm. The effect was instantaneous. Clear shapes and colors attacked my newfound sense. I could see Kakashi's shock of silver hair, and the woven tatami mats stood out. As I gripped tighter to his pale arm, Kakashi pulled away, stopping his chakra from circulating. My sight faded away yet again, much to my disappointment.

Since then Sakumo has discovered my ability for temporary sight. Everytime he carries me, he circulates his chakra, and it seems I'm able to tap into it. And see. It's different from when I saw with Kakashi. Colors change, some seem sharper, or brighter. That's not the only thing I've learned, picking up the language is much easier now that when Sakumo teaches me, I can see what he is referring to.

When I was three months, I could understand most of what the men of the house said, but had yet to speak myself.

When I was six months, I began crawling. The freedom was fantastic. Kakashi avoided me, as much as possible for a two-year old with a pride complex.

In some ways I feel bad that Sakumo must deal with two young children alone. I do my best not to go too far from his side. For one I can't see without someone near, and I often bump into things that I can't distinct in the blurs. Also, I figure he has enough trouble keeping track of Kakashi without trying to watch a blind child every second.

When I was eight months, I began to toddle. And, unfortunately, teeth. It seemed horrible, yet I was thankful. Soon I would be able to speak. After that it seemed only a matter of time until my training started.

At nine months I think I may have a psychological issue. I can't wait to physically join my new family in their morning katas, and training. Sakumo will sometimes hold me while he goes through his katas without his hands, allowing me to view their maneuvers. Kakashi uses a style befitting his toddler size, focusing more on speed, and flexibility rather than strength. Sakumo, his style is similar, but he is like a panther, whereas Kakashi is a cub. It's only fair though, Kakashi is clearly a prodigy, but he's only two. A two-year old who just lost his mother.

He blames me. He may not say it, but I can tell. It's in the way he avoids me, and doesn't really want to touch me. I blame myself too. And I feel all the more guilty since she died three days after his birthday. I want to protect people, but I've already hurt them. I'm determined to help, and that's where my training comes in. Once I am strong enough, I will make a difference.

My thoughts drift away as Kakashi walks over, and stares at me while placing two of his still chubby fingers on my head. I automatically reach out for his chakra.

"Father, she is doing it again." He keeps his eyes trained on mine but turns slightly to speak over his shoulder. "Aoi's eyes changed color again. Why is she so weird?"

Sakumo pinches the bridge of his nose as he walks over and kneels next to us. "She isn't weird Kashi. It is her way of seeing, it makes her unique, not weird." He places a hand on Kakashi's shoulder.

"But I don't like it, I don't like her! I want mom back!" As I said before, Kakashi was only a two-year old. He will be a trained killer at five, but at the moment he is struggling to understand death. Unfortunately, the time will come when it forces itself into his vision.

I want to comfort him so badly, but all I can manage is a squeaked, " 'Ashi".

He pulls back as if electrocuted, and my sight is swept under the rug. That was the first word I spoke, if you could call it a word. It sounds as if it has gone through the garbage disposal, but is clear enough that they understand it as the toddler version of Kakashi's name. Either way, both members of my new family seem shocked.

My hand grabs blindly for my father, signalling my wish to see again. After a few seconds Sakumo responds by softly holding my hand. When my sight returns Kakashi's face is blank, but he is tilting his head slightly, as if curious. Sakumo looks proud, yet slightly disappointed. I can only imagine that he hoped to have me call for him first. I've practiced before bed though, and saying Dad is much easier.

Looking between them, I gurgle, "Da, 'Ashi". Giving my best puppy dog eyes at Kakashi, I spread my arms in the universal gesture of, pick me up. He just stares at me, looking oddly lost, and unsure. Instead of Kakashi, Sakumo picks me up and places me on his lap. Then without warning he reaches out and pulls Kakashi into the pile as well. We all stare at each other for a bit, silent except for our breathing.

"Do you know why your mother named you Kakashi? And your younger sister Aoi?" Sakumo stares expectantly at his son. A son who is struggling to find an answer that he doesn't have. I don't know what Sakumo is looking for either.

"I…"

"Kakashi, Aoi is part of our family. Your mother would want you to protect, and cherish her as your sibling. Not ignore her as a problem that will go away. Your mother is physically gone, but your sister is here. Carry on your mother's will Kakashi." I wasn't expecting that. It's hard to tell if Kakashi understood everything, but while he processes his father's words he looks at me.

Finally, he speaks. "Sorry sister." And when I lift my arms up this time, Kakashi hugs me, and lifts me up slightly. "Will you be a ninja Aoi?"

Will I make myself into a ninja? Do I want to face death everyday, force myself to kill people, train my body to the brink? Participate in war?

Do I want to protect people?

Yes. If I want strength, being a shinobi is the way to go. In response to Kakashi, I nod my head slightly.

"Good, then when you're older I'll help you train, and we will be like dad together." Kakashi squeezes me a little tighter. I hug him back securely. Thinking about the trials ahead. What happens if everything I do changes nothing?

"Well, now that that's settled who's ready for lunch?" Sakumo laughs and puts us on each shoulder, walking towards the kitchen. "The eggplant and miso soup is ready for eating."

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Roughly three months after Kakashi started to accept me as a sister, came our birthdays. And with my birthday came the memory of our mother's death. I guess it's good that I never really met the woman, considering my attachment to my mom. Well, my previous mom. And while my birthday signaled the passing of our mother, and my coming of age, it also signaled the day Sakumo returned to missions.

We celebrated Kakashi's birthday on the fifteenth of September. Sakumo and I made him his favorite foods, well Sakumo made the food, I mostly sat in a chair and took in all the smells. When no one was within reaching distance I would need to rely on my other senses.

We went out shopping the day before to get Kakashi's presents, which were mostly related to training. Kakashi, set to begin attending the academy in a year, seemed to train even more diligently. Often he would push his body to exhaustion. At night, I would hear Sakumo carrying Kakashi to bed, and tuck him in.

Among the presents was a half mask. Finished with the shinobi guide-book, Kakashi had memorized every rule, including the rule of a shinobi must not show emotion. He was relatively good at keeping his face blank, but he had looked at the mask for a while now. Sakumo thought it wouldn't hurt to get it since it would hopefully hide the resemblance as well. Once Konoha's White Fang went back on missions he would be a force to reckon with. And his kids might be targeted as a way to bring him down. Until we could fight on our own anyway.

Speaking of which, the day after the eighteenth, Sakumo would officially be back on the active roster. Now that I could take care of myself, with Kakashi's help of course, our father was no longer needed at home. Not to mention, he needed to continue getting an income, instead of using the family savings.

For my birthday, Kakashi and Sakumo got me a set of rubber kunai and shuriken, so that I could get used to the size and weight of the weapons. The last present I opened contained a navy sun dress. And while Kakashi wouldn't admit it, I knew it he had picked it out. He couldn't help the smile that broke out when I squealed over the article of clothing.

Because our mother's death fell on the eighteenth as well, we also went to her grave. I tugged along a bouquet of pink carnations, Sakumo carried white roses, and Kakashi held white asphodel mixed with day lilies. Each bouquet was our own little message to our mother. Setting the flowers around her grave, we knelt, and bent our heads in prayer. I didn't just pray to my new mother, but my previous one as well. I would always be grateful to the women who gave birth to me, but the one that nurtured me wouldn't leave my thoughts.

In the end though it feels like mothers and fathers wouldn't matter, because it would only be Kakashi and me left. As much as I've grown to enjoy the quiet moments, learning and laughing with Sakumo, I doubt I will be able to keep him from going on that fateful mission. But maybe I can keep him from taking his life.

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**Thanks for reading!**

**Reviews are appreciated, and help me make my writing better!**

**Cheers,**

**Royal-Ranger **


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